


Corruptible

by RedHorse



Series: Tomarry/Harrymort prompt fills [9]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Borgin & Burke’s worker!Tom, Harry is Married, Head Auror!Harry, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Solicitation, Switching, age difference 19/31
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-19 05:54:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19969111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedHorse/pseuds/RedHorse
Summary: Harry Potter goes to Knockturn Alley for a prostitute, under a flawless glamour. When he sees a handsome young man outside the tavern infamous for picking up prostitutes, he hires him before he even asks his price. Tom Riddle isn’t really a prostitute, he was just making a delivery for his employer, Borgin & Burke’s. But Tom has never been one to miss an opportunity, and he sees Harry Potter for exactly who he is.





	Corruptible

**Author's Note:**

  * For [exarite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/exarite/gifts).



> Thanks to mith for beta reading!

Tom normally made deliveries in South Knockturn earlier in the day, but it had been a busy morning and then a busier afternoon. It was getting dark by the time he stepped out of Borgin & Burke's, hurrying so that he would reach the meeting place on time. He hadn't even had time to wrap the artifact. He just held it tightly in his hand, buried in his cloak pocket, the chain wound twice around his wrist to be sure it didn't slip from his grasp.

He reached the Shifting Cellar just as the sun slid fully out of sight, shrouding the entire street in dense shadow. There at the point in the Alley with the perpetually burnt-out street lamp stood a human-shaped figure. He’d positioned himself in the darkness so effectively, his unseasonably light, black cloak may as well have been one of invisibility. But Tom saw him; he had marvelous eyesight.

"Here for business?" Tom asked casually. He still held the item tightly.

The cowled head bobbed in a nod, and the figure stepped away from the wall. Whoever he was, he was very tall and very large. Tom found himself almost subconsciously intimidated, but reminded himself his wand was close and there wasn't a wizard in England who could best him.

"The galleons first," Tom said coolly, and the customer muttered but fumbled for their coin purse.

A crowd was coming into the tavern, so Tom stepped out of their way, annoyed that it put him within arm's reach of the customer, and then — much faster than Tom might have expected for someone his size — the customer grabbed Tom's arm and pushed him toward the wall.

"Where is it?" muttered a rough voice, as the big oaf fumbled at Tom's pockets. Tom paused, annoyed. He considered whether he would be excused the use of a lethal spell if he was found standing over the body of this useless miscreant, and also whether he could successfully collect the item's price if the intended buyer were to die here in the street.

While Tom hesitated, pondering, a flash of bright spell fire netted his would-be assailant from behind, snaking around his torso and jerking him off Tom. He landed on his back some distance away, almost in the middle of the street.

Tom blinked at the body, twisting and groaning onto its side. Then he looked toward the man standing in the Alley to Tom’s left, holding his wand aloft — the man who was quite unmistakably the famous, idiotically-daring Head Auror, Harry Potter.

Tom leaned against the wall, wondering what steps he should take to ensure that he wasn't arrested for selling contraband in a public street, since the Gem of Revelation had been banned in the U.K. for at least a hundred years. Then, seeing that the Head Auror was wearing civilian attire and hadn’t even bothered to raise the hood on his cloak, Tom had a second thought. He let go of the object in his pocket to test it.

As soon as the Gem fell from Tom's hand, Harry Potter was transformed into a man of similar stature, thought much younger and with thick, smooth red hair where the distinctively messy black waves had been. Tom grasped the Gem again and, like a switch had flipped, he could again see the un-glamoured version of the Auror. He was standing over the cloaked hulk of a man, speaking tersely. The buyer hung his head as he struggled to his knees, then, cowering, sulked off.

Harry Potter turned back toward Tom and Tom immediately schooled his expression into one of timid gratitude.

"Oh, sir," he said quietly, "thank you so much. I was terrified."

"Are you injured?" the Auror asked, and Tom, holding the Gem, shook his head with a wry smile.

"Only spooked."

"What was he after?" asked the Auror. Tom's thoughts whirred. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a boy about his age, slowly parting his robes to reveal the tight-fitting trousers and shirt beneath, cocking his head coyly as a couple of wizards walked past. Their heads didn't turn and, with a scowl, the boy hunched his shoulders and wandered further down the Alley.

"Well," Tom said slowly, "my...wares." He cleared his throat and tried to blush, which he'd never been good at. He used a worldless spell to speed his own pulse, though, and it must have been convincing enough. The Auror's face went almost comically blank.

"Oh." He swallowed, his throat bobbing. "Oh. You're..." 

Tom smirked like he'd just seen the boy do and shook his head so that troublesome curl fell slightly over his eye. "That's right. Are you looking?"

This shouldn't take long. Clearly the Auror didn't suspect him of selling anything but his arse, which was allowed. Tom could probably get back to the shop before close, if he left soon. He wondered what Borgin was going to say about the Gem. It wasn't  _ his _ fault half of Borgin's customers were thieves, and if Borgin tried to blame him he'd...

"Actually," Harry Potter murmured, stepping slowly closer. "I am."

Tom could think of nothing to say. 

Harry Potter, hero. Harry Potter, Head Auror, the only person to hold the position in living memory and maintain a sterling ethical reputation. Harry Potter — family man, who regularly graced covers of the  _ Prophet _ gazing into the eyes of his Quidditch-star wife like a portrait of wedded-bliss — was sauntering toward Tom. His hooded eyes skipped from Tom's mouth to his throat to his hips with naked hunger.

Well, that was a poor assessment of the odds, on Tom's part. He considered what to do as the Auror came within arm's reach, but to his dubious credit, didn't try to touch. Instead he looked back into Tom's eyes. The Auror’s eyes were as-advertised. That is to say, unreasonably green and fringed in black eyelashes. He was Tom's height, and their hair was the same color, and they were both lean. Some might say they resembled one another, though Tom preferred his own aristocratic features to the more...rugged, square-jawed sort of look the Potters always spawned.

Tom had grown an inch last year, he thought vaguely. If he kept it up, he might outgrow the Head Auror, and he found he liked that thought. 

Harry Potter wet his lips. "What...how would this work?"

Tom remembered the glamour. It had been young, deliberately so. It wouldn't be quite so incongruous with the uncertainty in the Head Auror's famous face. He considered releasing the Gem, as it would be easier to play his part, to appear fooled, if he could see an unfamiliar, unremarkable face. But he didn't want to see a different face.

That thought startled him, and kept him from organizing his thoughts a moment longer than he'd intended.

"Or...is it...how much?" Harry Potter murmured. He took a half step closer to Tom, and from this range, Tom could feel a sort of racing energy in the air around the Auror that he realized must be his magic. It was the sort of raw power too infrequently absent in those with political power and influence. The combination of the two made Harry Potter suddenly much more interesting than he’d been a moment before.

There was possibility here. This could be an opportunity.

Tom slid one hand around the Auror's lean waist, feeling the grain of the fine leather belt. His body was almost shockingly warm. Tom had never had good circulation. A Gaunt trait.

"The price depends on what you'd like," Tom said, tipping his chin down so he could look up at Harry Potter through his eyelashes.

"What I — ?" Harry Potter began, but then trailed off with a strangled sound when Tom pulled their bodies close together. With a quick step, he angled them so that the Auror's glamoured face, and not Tom's, was pointed in the direction of the Cellar entrance. He didn't need Borgin hearing reports of a tryst.

The movement brought their hips and thighs flush, the Auror's feet between Tom's, and at the contact Tom felt the deep thrill of tangling magic. It was a side effect of leaving his power unbound from his wand, and usually it wasn't pleasant. Auras had a taste, almost; scent, texture. Most auras, like most people, were too inferior to appeal, but the Head Auror's aura was bright and hot and sweet. To maintain his focus, Tom inched backward, winning a handspan of space but leaving his hand on the Auror's waist.

"So, what is it you're looking for?" Tom murmured, his heated gaze suddenly much easier to feign, and rubbed the Head Auror's hip, feeling the jutting bone and, lower, the tight bulge of muscle in the front of his thigh. Harry Potter jumped at his touch, breath leaving him in what could only be called a pant, but didn't pull away. 

"Do you mean time, or...?" the Auror sucked in a strangled breath, "...acts?"

Tom had no idea how this subsection of the economy worked, but figured the Head Auror would hardly take the time to fact check him. He was eager.

"Both," Tom said. "Something quick — my mouth, perhaps? I'll make you a good deal. You did rescue me." He winked, then smiled, pleased, when the Auror's eyes fastened with longing on Tom's parted lips.

"No," he breathed, surprising Tom.

"No?"

"I want...I  _ need _ ...everything."

Tom arched a brow. Of course, this wasn't his industry, but he thought  _ everything _ seemed rather greedy and, frankly, unrealistic. 

"I need to...know," the Head Auror said stiltedly, and then, seeing Tom's quizzical expression, he breathed in deeply and added, "I haven't ever. Been. With a...man."

Tom's confusion cleared. He stepped closer again, just to feel the thrill of his magic lighting up with interest in Harry Potter, and explored the baser, physical sensation of the body too. He didn't have sex often; when it occurred to him, which was less often now than when he was sixteen, he jacked himself with the assistance of a vivid, carefully tailored fantasy with a nonspecific cast. But he knew he could enjoy the Auror’s body, hard and trembling. A person of such objective strength and power so obviously interested in surrender...yes.

"Two hundred galleons," he said into Harry Potter's ear, and bit the lobe.

The Head Auror trembled and grasped Tom's arm, bruising. "It's a deal," he said shakily. "Oh, Merlin," he added, when Tom kneaded his arse. "Wh-where?"

Tom paused in his ministrations, leaning his chin on Harry Potter's shoulder while he considered. He certainly couldn't take the Head Auror back to his flat over Borgin & Burke's.

”I’ll see to it,” Tom said, recalling the Avery cottage would be available. He held the Auror in one arm and drew his wand with the other, releasing the Gem into his pocket and frowning at the flash of a different face close to his, vibrant hair and dull eyes. He Apparated them.

The Avery cottage was vacant, as predicted. He imagined Avery Senior’s face if he knew the Head Auror was about to shag someone in his vacation home and smiled.

“This is...” The Auror broke away from Tom and pivoted to take in their surroundings. Tom noticed with approval that Harry Potter wasn’t admiring the grand room and fine furnishings so much as he was assessing a new location for latent threats. “It’s very nice. Not what I was expecting. But I guess, if two hundred galleons is your usual price...”

He seemed suddenly self-assured, drifting away from Tom and perusing the room, as though he hadn’t been shuddering at Tom’s touch and teeth in the alley a minute before

Now he was what Tom might have expected of someone with his rank and reputation. Outwardly at ease in a way that Tom made an effort to appear at all times, also, and yet with an obvious — readiness. If Tom tried to duel him right now, he might not win at once.

He felt a thrill. It had been so long since someone posed any real challenge.

“It’s not my usual price,” Tom said, for the sake of precision. “It’s my price for  _ everything _ .” To his satisfaction, that regained Harry Potter’s attention. 

Tom considered undressing, but he wanted to hold the Gem as long as he could. The thought of that glamour’s countenance made him shudder. 

“The bedroom?” he asked casually, tilting his head toward the doors that led to that part of the house.

“Yeah. Yes.” The Auror shed his cloak and folded it over his arm. The clothing beneath was fitted and high quality. Tom studied it with envy, as interested in the signs of wealth as he was the body underneath. More.

“Go on,” Tom said quietly, with a meaningful look from the Auror’s head to his feet.

Harry Potter didn’t require magic to blush. His skin was pale and quick to show color, like a flower petal, curiously delicate despite his age.

He tugged his shirt from his waistband and unbuttoned it. Tom turned the Gem pensively in his palm. The Auror had the lean muscle of an athlete. Tom recalled he played Quidditch with his wife almost every weekend.

Harry Potter paused with his shirt unbuttoned and looked at Tom. Tom folded his arms. The Auror smiled — surprising Tom — then to Tom’s further unease, he laughed.

“I have to say,” he murmured as though speaking to himself, ”this wasn’t what I expected.” But he toed off his shoes and unbuttoned his trousers to step out of them. Then he lifted his feet behind them one at a time, balancing with the ease of a dancer, and pulled off his socks.

When he was in nothing but his pants, he looked at Tom expectantly. The Auror obviously expected some sort of reciprocation, but Tom only smiled, turned and walked into the bedroom, one hand in his pocket. He trusted it appeared natural, like he was simply going for a stroll through the house with no intention of staying very long.

He hadn't been inside the bedroom in the cottage. When he'd come here with Avery and Mulciber, they'd mostly spent time in the garden, coming up with the most creative curses with which to eradicate gnomes and drinking Firewhiskey. That game had been Tom's first and last experience with drunkenness. He'd hated how it slowed his thoughts and dulled his senses (and how, in the moment, he was convinced the loose-limbed freedom was worth the price). That night, they'd slept in transfigured cots in the living room. 

Like the rest of the house, the bedroom was more than adequately appointed. The bed, a large, carved four-poster, was left clean and freshly made. It reminded Tom of Hogwarts, except it had no canopy and it was three or four times the size of his bed in the dormitories.

Tom slipped out of his shoes and gestured to Harry Potter. The Auror walked past him without hurrying, and Tom saw that he still held his wand, though his grip was relaxed. He did set it down after he settled himself on the foot of the bed. He looked at Tom curiously.

"Are you always so controlling?" His voice was low, like he was trying to flirt. Tom resisted the urge to glare at him. It would have been harder if he didn't already have experience in the services industry.

“Only when that's what's wanted," Tom said smoothly, stepping between Harry Potter's knees. The Auror leaned back on his hands, eyes wide behind his glasses. Tom noticed that despite his effort to appear calm, the muscles in his stomach, upper arms and thighs were standing out, taut.

Tom rubbed the Auror's shoulder soothingly with one hand, the other still in the pocket and holding the Gem. "There's nothing to be nervous about," he soothed. "You said you wanted to be sure?"

Harry Potter nodded, quiet again, all his mirth turning to wonder at Tom's touch. It was a heady feeling, different than how Tom felt amidst his followers. A brand of the same thing, perhaps, but more potent. "Then it seems like the first test would be whether you'd like to suck my cock."

The Auror's eyes widened. In the low light here in the cottage, his face was easier to see than it had been in the more complete darkness of the alley. His age was more apparent than in a  _ Prophet _ shot, as well. But Tom found it appealing: the very beginnings of faint forks at the corners of his eyes, the straight line on either side of his mouth when his lips tightened, almost a grimace. But he didn't push Tom away or refuse him.

(This was a relief. Tom had a feeling that "everything" necessarily included oral sex and while he didn't mind receiving, it was not something he had ever attempted to perform, nor did he intend to.)

"That might even be definitive," the Auror agreed. His eyes were bright, and when his tense lips quirked it was into a smile that was practically shy, and made Tom feel, at last, a sudden burst of pure, physical arousal. "I have been thinking about it," he added quietly, lifting his hands toward Tom's belt. "Though I hadn't imagined someone who looks like you."

Tom adjusted his posture, pleased. "How do I look?"

The Auror had unfastened his belt. His hands didn't shake, but his uneasiness was obvious in his roiling magic. "You are a lovely boy," he murmured. When Tom scoffed, he looked up and Tom looked down his nose.

"I'm not a  _ boy _ ."

The Auror laughed, a deep low sound that, strangely, made Tom's cock jerk, almost fully hard now. It was probably the prospect of thrusting down the throat of someone powerful and famous, but still, this was not going the way of Tom's previous encounters. The unfamiliarity made him feel faintly uneasy.

“You are," the Auror said, parting Tom's fly and pushing the waistband of his trousers from his hips so they slid down his legs and puddled on the floor. Then he drew in a shaky breath, staring at Tom's legs, at the bulge in his underwear. He had large hands for a man who wasn't particularly large anywhere else, and he was sliding them over Tom's hips to the small of his back, then back again, so his thumbs raked the fabric of Tom's pants.

The Auror paused and glanced up. "Are you even old enough for this?"

Tom, still wearing his cloak, snorted and stepped back. The Auror followed him, sinking to his knees, his hands lightly on Tom's waist until, as he descended and would have had to reach, they slipped to his arse.

"I'm nineteen," he said, amused by the brief look of guilt his revelation inspired. "What? I'm legal."

"Just a few years older than my godson," muttered the Auror. Then his look of uncertainty vanished, replaced by determination, and he hooked his fingertips in the elastic of Tom's underwear. "May I...?"

"Before the night is over, preferably," Tom replied wanly.

The Auror laughed again. To his surprise, the sound affected Tom even further. He felt the infinitesimal pulse in his cock and dampness on the head. Precome. He was learning so much about himself this evening, he thought with vague amusement, and tangled the hand that wasn't still sunk in his robe pocket into the Auror's soft dark hair. Tom had never understood the public's fascination with this messy black bird's nest, but now he did, perfectly. He made a loose fist so that all the hair wrapped around his fingers pulled tight.

"And I thought  _ I _ was eager," the Auror murmured, then made a small noise when Tom's cock bobbed free then angled up, away from the Auror's face. He put his hand around it, leaving Tom's underwear halfway down his thighs, and guided it into his mouth without hesitation.

Tom hadn't been expecting the sudden, enveloping heat. He groaned, watching Harry Potter's dark head bob, and realized he nearly had what he needed. But there was no reason to interrupt this surprisingly pleasant experience, he determined, either. He could inform Harry Potter of his terms in due course, preferably  _ after _ he came.

Harry Potter wasn't very good at this. It was his first time, and it showed. He was gagging, though Tom was only halfway in his mouth, and though he had good instincts (probably from having his own cock sucked, Tom supposed; or was it true that all stopped with marriage?) his technique was subpar. 

It didn't matter. Every time he looked up at Tom, his mouth wide and red and his eyes faraway and heavy-lidded,  _ loving it _ , Tom could have come. It was only his unparalleled self-control that prevented him.

Not to mention, Tom had to be sure he kept his wits about him. Had to be sure that the sight of Harry Potter, finally taking enough of Tom's cock that his convulsing throat gripped the head in a too-sinful way that made Tom finally give in and come — he had to be sure all of it was clearly preserved in his memory, so that he would have the appropriate pensieve material to extract a later favor from arguably the most influential wizard in Britain.

Tom emptied his cock straight down Harry Potter's throat, holding his hair tightly, the Gem clutched so hard in his other hand it would surely leave a permanent impression on his skin. Tom wanted to throw his head back and thrust, but he didn't. He kept his head down, his stare intent, drinking in the sight of the older wizard on his knees, threads of silver in the fistful of hair Tom held, swallowing around Tom's cock and not even trying to fight Tom's hold.

Tom let go of Harry Potter and staggered forward, leaning his thighs against the bed. The Head Auror was behind him at once, his hands sliding around Tom's bare thighs, then back upward so his long fingers trailed along Tom's cleft.

"Amazing," he rasped, leaning against Tom's back. Tom's robes and shirt were still on, a thin barrier, but still Tom shuddered at the heat of the Auror's bare chest. "Can I..." he asked, tugging at the lapel of the robe, "take this off? I want to see you." 

Tom, regaining some of his composure, considered.

He had enough. He could pull the card from his sleeve now. Tell the Auror that Tom knew who he was. Show him the Gem, tap his temple and remind Harry Potter that everything Tom needed to implode his life was safely stored, and send him along his way. Tom could take his time to decide what price to extract.

But perhaps there was a more prosperous relationship he could carve out for himself with Harry Potter. Harry Potter, as wealthy as he was famous, but who rarely had to dip into his coffers because Wizarding Britain and half of the rest of the world was swarming with people who wanted to bombard him with gifts.

_ Conquer one overly-ambitious, under-powered wizard with the nerve to call himself a dark lord, and look where it could get you. _

But that rumination could be rehashed another time. For now Tom had to decide whether to let Harry Potter continue easing his robes from his shoulders, or object.

Tom let him.

He took his hand from his pocket at last, holding the Gem tightly then shoving his fist into the bedclothes, leaning down to do it in a way that thrust his arse invitingly into Harry Potter's thighs. The Auror's breath hitched and for a moment he ground against Tom, feeling large and heavy against Tom's bare arse cheek.

Tom would see how things progressed. Why not enjoy himself? The earlier, intense rush from their mingled auras had worn down to a steady, contented purr, the perfect accentuation of Harry Potter's worshipful hands, shoving Tom's shirt up his back, too impatient to undress him further.

"Do I...is it...?"

Tom looked over his shoulder to find the Head Auror gazing down at his arse like he was having a religious experience. Tom made a surprised, pleased sound when one of the roaming hands found its way between his thighs and cupped his balls, gently fondling. He bit his lip, loathe to ask for more, but found he didn't have to. Noticing his reaction, the Auror continued, adding soft tugs, as he stroked Tom's exposed hole with his opposite forefinger.

"Have you ever fucked your wife's arse?" Tom asked. It was a practical question, but at the way Harry Potter jerked and looked torn between disgust and pained arousal by the mention of his wife, Tom grinned.

"Then you know what to do. First, lubricant."

Harry Potter muttered something and, wandlessly, conjured a warm, pleasant substance that was slick around Tom's hole. Tom let his head fall forward between his shoulders, giving himself permission to enjoy the anticipation. He did like to be savored, serviced.

When Harry Potter paused, Tom jerked his head back up and snarled, "*What*?"

The Auror looked shocked for a moment, then recovered. "I want you on your back," he said. "The whole point is to see you," he added, almost defensively, at Tom's arched brow.

Tom blinked. "You really," he drawled, "are still questioning whether you're attracted to men, after the way you practically came just from having me in your mouth?"

Instead of offended, the Auror looked — maddeningly — amused. "No. But this is my only chance to experiment, and I want to make the most of it. He patted Tom's hip. "Come on. The customer's always right, isn't he?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Tom huffed, but he crawled up onto the bed and lay on his back. He was hard again, and wasn't sure he liked the evidence of his enjoyment being so completely on display. But then Harry Potter lowered his head and began licking his balls, and Tom's head fell back and he decided not to pretend indifference. His hand fell into Harry Potter's hair and, a moment too late, he recalled the Gem.

The chain dangled from Tom's closed hand and had brushed Harry Potter's cheek, making him look up, startled.

"What's this...?" he asked, and Tom started to pull back but Harry Potter — famous, among so many other things, for his Seeker's prowess — was too quick. He caught Tom's wrist and stared at the badly-concealed magical artifact only half-hidden by Tom's fingers and, from the look on his face, recognized it at once.

He was out of the bed and holding his wand faster than if he'd been hexed.

"What," he spat, "is going on here?"

**Author's Note:**

> This won’t be a long one but I have two more chapters planned. I’d love to hear what you think!


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